Day After Day
by Gryffindorian2014
Summary: Some crucial moments in the lives of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter in their togetherness and separation following them till the end. Will become lemony. Expect considerable fluffiness in future updates. or Angst, as per popular demand really. Plot bunnies required!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : **This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary gain is being made off it. Any violation of trademark and copyright infringement is purely co-incidental and unintentional. The rights belong to its respective owner(s) and nothing substantial is being gained from this venture.**

 **Summary** **: Those crucial moments that essentially shaped Draco and Harry's relationship. Told in Drabbles of varying lengths. Each Drabble could be standalone as well!**

 **Warnings** **: Profanity. Lime, maybe some lemon later on, could even get pretty graphic.**

 **Timeline** **: Post-war, eighth year, and basically – "Till death do them part"**

 **Characters** **: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter.**

 **POV** **: mainly Draco, may be Harry, sometimes may also be third person.**

 **A/N** **: I'll be happy to take requests and suggestions about Drarry plot bunnies for this series! And because I cannot yet find a suitable title I'm using this lame one.**

 **Word count: 1,410.**

* * *

 **Day after Day**

* * *

 **September 1, 1999 – Going Back**

This is the not what I need at the moment. In fact, this must be the very last thing I would've done if it was a question of my volition. But the decision isn't mine to make and I've learnt to play along with whatever my parents decide. Besides, it's not like I have much choice, it's either attend Hogwarts for completing the NEWTS or spend the year under the scrutiny of the media. No thank you, I'd rather wash Weasley's dirty laundry with my bare hands before further media attention.

So that was that and September 1st finds me at the station with my mother who is unusually quiet. For the very first time after the war, I feel real apprehension. I tug at my sleeve, conscious of the filthy Dark Mark that still hasn't quite disappeared. My mother gives me a half-hearted smile of encouragement and a one-armed hug and I nod to her. Both of us expertly masking the tension we are currently feeling.

 _This is it._

And I take in a deep breath and then step through the barrier between Platform 9 and 10.

The familiar noise of King's Cross falls abruptly silent as soon as I appear unto platform 9¾. But I do my best to ignore them, holding my head high and walking as fast as possible without seeming in a hurry to get away from the hostile glances to downright hateful glares thrown my way. Climbing into the familiar scarlet train, I hurry to the compartments usually occupied by the Slytherins.

Predictably the compartments are rather less populous. I knew for certain that Goyle wasn't returning, after that Room of requirements incident back in the war and something broke between the three of us after Crabbe's death. Goyle had moved to the States with his family to flee prosecution from the Ministry. So did the Parkinsons and the Notts, to France and Denmark, respectively.

Thankfully I find an empty cabin and slip into it, hoping that no one will want to sit with me.

Two hours later and much to my chagrin, no one actually bothered me, apart from the occasional heads poking in to see whether the seats were vacant. I feel strangely vindicated when a few first years actually cower after looking in.

But just as all good things must come to an end, I make the first mistake of the year when I step out of the compartment cabin in order to go in search of the Trolley lady. Honestly, I was bored to tears and I simply needed a chocolate frog and some of Bertie Bott's

All that went to hell because as soon I crossed the threshold that joined two compartments and I felt a vicious spell hit my right calf.

The bloody stinging hex.

I whip out my wand and turn with lightning speed only to see someone fire another aimed at my face and I react faster by drawing up my arms in defence which lead to my forearms taking the brunt of it.

The funny part was that the hex came from a Slytherin.

It took me a split second to bolt into the nearest cabin, which turned out to be my second mistake.

Because Harry bloody Potter was sitting inside it, accompanied by Weasley and Granger.

Shit.

 _Shit_. Not this.

And certainly not _now_!

Then everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Potter lowered the liquorice wand from his mouth, his green eyes bright and wide, looking utterly baffled and started to say something but in a movement I quite didn't see because I was looking at Potter with eyes as wide as his; Weasley whipped out his wand and poked it painfully into my chest.

"Get lost, Death-Eater scum!"

Next, it was Granger who gasped and surprisingly, pulled back the buffoon, restraining him with her smaller arms.

"Gladly" I gritted out throwing Weasley the dirtiest look I could imagine and turned on my heel.

"Wait."

It was Potter.

I didn't.

I slid open the door and foot out my foot when someone grabbed my arm and pulled me back into one of the seats.

"Fuck you, Potter! That bloody hurts!"

"Ronald!" Granger shrieked at the same time "Stop pointing your wand at Malfoy!"

Like the stupid arsehole he was, Weasley kept his wand aimed at me, but when Granger added "Now!" he looked at her disbelievingly, but lowered his wand anyway.

It was amusing to see Weasley letting Granger dictate him and him obeying her like a faithful dog.

I couldn't help the smirk that formed on my lips which caused Weasley to glare daggers at me.

Granger ushered him out of the cabin all the while casting surreptious glances over her shoulder at Potter.

"It'll be alright" he said and the door closed behind them.

That's when I realized that my wounds hurt like fuck.

"Sorry," he said, his green eyes apologetic. "You're hurt."

"Very observant, Potter." I bit out harshly causing Potter to flush.

"If you don't mind, can I have a look?"

I wanted to come back with a scathing reply, because what Weasley said touched a damn nerve, but my arm and legs hurt so bad that I simply bit my lips and nodded.

Potter kneeled down on the floor and began rolling up my robes.

I tried hard not to wince. And I definitely did not want to imagine the way those wounds looked.

Damn it. Unfortunately for them I knew the perfect way to treat those kinds of wankers.

Only when I felt the cool fingers brushing my ankle that I realized I had shut my eyes. Lowering my gaze, I notice Potter muttering some healing spell, his wand glowing a warm green.

Through the haze of the dulling pain I belatedly realize that Potter's head was uncomfortably close to the juncture between my legs.

And it was doing odd things to my brain in direct connection to said area.

I tightened the grip on my wand, because odd things or not. I'd like to keep my valued bits intact, Thank you very much. Especially when it involved none other than my nemesis present _this_ close and armed with a wand.

The entendre in that thought caught me off guard.

What the fuck?

I couldn't possibly be _this_ desperate for a fuck.

But all that flew out of the window when Potter made a move to stand up.

"Done"

He said, with a self satisfied grin and promptly fell forward as the train jerked vigorously right then.

And my last shred of self constraint snapped.

The sight of Potter flailing like a large, awkward bird would've been hilarious if his gaping mouth wouldn't have been removed by a hair's breadth from landing on my cock.

Salazar's red knickers.

"Oh-um I-I'm-uh" Potter began, stuttering and blushing to the roots of his hair.

His embarrassment was strangely endearing. For a moment I felt my chest twinge with the thought that Potter would probably never want to be around me anymore. Not that he ever wanted to in the first place, but his presence, even in channelled through hateful glances and foul words was strangely placating. It reminded me of a better past where crazy Dark Lords did not breathe down your neck.

Wait. Of course this doesn't mean I want Potter's idiotic company. Get that straight.

"Potter, _relax_ " I scoffed, shifting myself carefully to conceal the evidence of my arousal.

"Er...Right, are you alright now-the wounds I mean, I know it isn't as good as Madame Pomfrey's spells but it should help till we get to Hogwarts and then you could go get Madame Pomfrey's help-"

He was babbling, still blushing like a thirteen year old, his eyes hesitant to meet mine.

I wondered why. Because it sure as hell wasn't possible for him to actually be aroused by that...was it?

"It's alright if you'd like to sit here till we get to Hogsmeade." Potter was saying.

His eyes met mine and I detected a hint of shyness which I attempted to brush off as my imagination.

"Erm..." He started awkwardly and I realized he was waiting for a confirmation all this while.

"It's because...well...those students who hexed you are still out there..." He concluded, trailing off unsurely at the end.

 _Was he apologizing for nearly kissing my cock?_

That thought caused me to smirk.

"Whatever, Potter."

Needless to say, it was the most awkward trip of my life.

* * *

 **I'm in dire need of plot bunnies. Help would be greatly appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** : **This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary gain is being made off it. Any violation of trademark and copyright infringement is purely co-incidental and unintentional. The rights belong to its respective owner(s) and nothing substantial is being gained from this venture.**

 **Summary** **: Those crucial moments that essentially shaped Draco and Harry's relationship. Told in Drabbles. Each Drabble could be standalone as well!**

 **Warnings** **: Profanity. Lime, maybe some lemon later on, could even get pretty graphic.**

 **Timeline** **: Post-war, eighth year, and basically – "Till death do them part"**

 **Characters** **: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter.**

 **POV** **: mainly Draco, may be Harry, sometimes may also be third person.**

 **A/N** **: I'll be happy to take requests and suggestions about Drarry plot bunnies! And because I cannot yet find a suitable title I'm using this lame one.**

 **Word count: 193**

* * *

 _Same day, dinner time._

* * *

Across the Great hall, I watch The Saviour of the wizarding world laugh uproariously-every bit like the stupid Gryffindor he is—at something the Weasel is saying while Granger looks patronisingly at said buffoon.

And I have this sudden desire to roll my eyes. I know it's a very juvenile way of communicating. But that sure doesn't stop adults from doing so. It is that effective.

It's no use rolling my eyes as well, it's not as if Potter is going to see me do it and realize that Weasel is just stupid, not funny. Or wait, _maybe Potter is laughing because the Weasel is stupid?_

On second thought, Potter may be clueless but he's got a warm laugh.

Then, a sudden flash of the memory of Potter gently touching my leg and his cautious wand work makes me feel warm.

It comes as a shock when I realize I'm thinking about Potter.

And possibly getting...aroused?

Again.

What. The.

I grip my knife harder and stab the omelette.

For the rest of breakfast I keep my eyes to my plate and don't let my sight waver beyond the scope of the Slytherin table.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** : **This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary gain is being made off it. Any violation of trademark and copyright infringement is purely co-incidental and unintentional. The rights belong to its respective owner(s) and nothing substantial is being gained from this venture.**

 **Summary** **: Those crucial moments that essentially shaped Draco and Harry's relationship. Told in Drabbles. Each Drabble could be standalone as well!**

 **Warnings** **: Profanity. Lime, maybe some lemon later on, could even get pretty graphic.**

 **Timeline** **: Post-war, eighth year, and basically – "Till death do them part"**

 **Characters** **: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter.**

 **POV** **: mainly Draco, may be Harry, sometimes may also be third person.**

 **A/N** **: I'll be happy to take requests and suggestions about Drarry plot bunnies! And because I cannot yet find a suitable title I'm using this lame one.**

 **Word count: 807**

* * *

 _September 3_ _rd_ _, 1998_

The library is empty when I walk in.

That's not surprising considering that it's only seven in the morning of our second day in eighth year. Moreover, it's a Saturday and thus I'll be spared the drama of feigning the Ex-Death Eater-turned-good-and-repenting act. I won't have to worry about anyone but Granger coming here. That's good. She keeps to herself. But I do notice the subtle looks of sympathy. It annoys me to hell, although it's not as bad as Weasley showing pity, I still hate them. But I'm enduring this. I'm used to enduring. I've been doing that all my life.

I pick up a random book from the shelf and settle down on the ledge of one of the portrait windows.

I don't understand why I need to sit for my NEWTS. It's not like I'll be flooded with job offers. But I can't deny this; it feels good to be back. School was the only place I was myself before insane Dark Lords and warmongers. It was only in the ancient books in the library and the bubbling cauldrons in Potions class that brought me back from going round the bend.

Sometime within an hour or two Blaise Zabini slips into the chair opposite to mine. He's reading the Potions Journal I lent him. Zabini acknowledges me with a distracted nod. He's a quiet one. I like that. All these years later Blaise Zabini is probably the only one closest to being my friend.

We are sitting in companionable silence, poring over our respective books when there is a sudden increase in the noise level.

Distracted, I leave my book at the table and go around the bookshelf concealing us from the rest of the library. There are a large number of girls crowding around something, rather, someone, giggling and exclaiming excitedly. I crane my neck to look for the source of all of that intolerable gushing. And I detect a pair of round glasses and a flash of green eyes.

Of course.

No wonder, I should've known.

Harry Potter is giggling, ridiculously at that, his face a violent red from trying to hold back the laughter while Weasley gesticulates like an awkward goose that has sprouted arms.

It's more than I can take.

"Even the library isn't immune to stupidity. It's ironic, considering this is the place for doing away with stupidity in the first place"

That makes Potter take notice of me. I smirk, partly because I've got his attention, partly because I've riled Weasley up.

Wait. Scratch that. I'm only glad because I could rile Weaselby up.

"Jealous, Malfoy?" Weasel mocks, his stupid mouth widening into what he thinks is a smug grin but it only makes him look like a bigger oaf.

For a split second I have this ridiculous thought that Weasley might've noticed me looking at Potter for a suspiciously long period of time (, which I question myself, by the way)

"Sure..." I drawl in a bored voice, masking my thundering heart when Potter and the girls stop laughing and he turns to look at me, his green eyes wide with curiosity. I also detect a touch of apprehension. Damn those eyes.  
"It's not every day that the Weasel is lucky enough to have such company. It's amusing to see you make a fool out of yourself, Weasel"

I can hear few of the girls snigger. After all, I was once popular with them too."Don't call me that, Ferret! At least..." Weasley then adds maliciously, "...I don't need to run to a Death-Eater father every time."

Now that was bloody low.

But what really throws me off is the flash of anger in Potter's darkened green eyes.

Somehow it surprises me that Weasley can be such a Slytherin without knowing it. I have half the mind to tell him just to watch him cringe, but it's only small satisfaction. But there's only anger in my conscious and a nasty stinging hex on the tip of my tongue.

"Bugger off, Weasel!" I say drawing my wand.

"Ron, come on!" Potter urges, intervening and grabbing hold of Weasley, his teeth gritted, "Mione will be waiting for us."

 _Wait. Is Potter really angry because of what Weasley said?_

"B-But Harry!" Weasley protests, faltering like an imbecile.

"Ron" Potter supplies in a dangerously low tone. "Let's go"

The last bit is added in almost a whisper and I feel something cold trickle down my spine. No wonder Potter could face Dark Lords and what not's.

Blaise grabs my shoulder to prevent me from hexing Weasley. Lucius may be a coward but he's still my father, and that, by default, is an off-limit topic.

The Weasel doesn't notice that I notice Potter looking at me, apologetic.

And all I can do is glare back with all the venom left from those childish fights.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** : **This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary gain is being made off it. Any violation of trademark and copyright infringement is purely co-incidental and unintentional. The rights belong to its respective owner(s) and nothing substantial is being gained from this venture.**

 **Summary** **: Those crucial moments that essentially shaped Draco and Harry's relationship. Told in Drabbles. Each Drabble could be standalone as well!**

 **Warnings** **: Profanity. Lime, maybe some lemon later on, could even get pretty graphic.**

 **Timeline** **: Post-war, eighth year, and basically – "Till death do them part"**

 **Characters** **: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter.**

 **POV** **: mainly Draco, may be Harry, sometimes may also be third person.**

 **A/N** **: I'll be happy to take requests and suggestions about Drarry plot bunnies! And because I cannot yet find a suitable title I'm using this lame one.**

 **Word count: 121**

* * *

 _October 5_ _th_ _, 1998._

"You like blokes." Blaise states when I brush off his attempts at conversation, his eyes never leaving his parchment. I really needed to get this annoying Transfiguration essay out of my way. But Blaise is as stubborn as they get. And more importantly, _that_ got my attention.

 _How did he_ even _—?_

"I beg your pardon?"

"...not just any man, you like Potter..." Blaise continues, apparently oblivious to my disbelief.

 _What the—_

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Uh-huh" he nods, a knowing grin stretching across his lips.

"Find someone else to annoy, Zabini. I have an essay due tomorrow."

"Sure."

Blaise returns to whatever book he's reading, looking much too smug for my liking.

If only glares could kill.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer** : **This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary gain is being made off it. Any violation of trademark and copyright infringement is purely co-incidental and unintentional. The rights belong to its respective owner(s) and nothing substantial is being gained from this venture.**

 **Summary** **: Those crucial moments that essentially shaped Draco and Harry's relationship. Told in Drabbles. Each Drabble could be standalone as well!**

 **Warnings** **: Profanity. Lime, maybe some lemon later on, could even get pretty graphic.**

 **Timeline** **: Post-war, eighth year, and basically – "Till death do them part"**

 **Characters** **: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter.**

 **POV** **: mainly Draco, may be Harry, sometimes may also be third person.**

 **A/N** **: I'll be happy to take requests and suggestions about Drarry plot bunnies! And because I cannot yet find a suitable title I'm using this lame one.**

 **Word count: 685**

* * *

 _Same day, Evening_

"So, are you going to tell me or not?" Blaise demands after Transfiguration. We're headed towards the Quidditch pitch. It's been too bloody long since I'd flown. And I wanted to do so right away; the weather was perfect, a delicious sunshine and a slightly breezy October sky, the smell of autumn pervading everything.

"Tell what?" I say, distracted by a group of players flying high above. I wondered who they were and if I'd be a subject of some nasty hexing experiment again.

For a moment the fear gets a hold of me.

"Potter" Blaise says from behind me.

"What about sodding Potter?" I retort, annoyed once again, _he wasn't going to let it go, was he? But he'd better, before I decide to spell his bits to oblivion._

"I _don't_ fucking like him, Zabini. Get _that_ straight." I reply, when he remains quiet.

I'm fastening my Quidditch robes when I hear him chuckle.

"Now what?" I say, pissed.

"Who said anything about your liking him? I was merely trying to say that Potter and his Gryffindor pals are out flying."

I roll and my eyes at that but my traitorous heart is already set aflutter.

"See for yourself"

And I did.

Indeed.

Potter, the Weasley chick and a handful of third years were there, I could recognize one fourth year girl who was a Slytherin.

"Not just the Gryffinwhos" I murmur.

I swallow inconspicuously when Potter does a successful Wronski Feint and the juniors squeal.

Merlin, Potter can fly. And look ridiculously good doing so. My lower body parts concur wholeheartedly.

I start to contemplate giving up on today's exercise when Blaise points out something to me and I look up at a distance to see Potter and the Weasley girl flying towards us.

"That Weasley chick is hot. Damn." I hear Blaise say and it's my turn to smirk at him.

"Think you're going to ask her out, Blaise dear?" I say, sniggering when, the two of them land and Dean Thomas walks across to give the girl a hug. "I suppose, not."

Blaise can only glare at me.

"Poor little Blaise." I tease.

"Is that right?" He smirks, when Potter is a few feet away, clearly approaching me.

I don't have the time for an angry retort and it's more of a habit when I unconsciously go for my wand.

"Hello, Harry" Zabini greets, smiling pleasantly, masking his secret smirk.

"Blaise" he returns, smiling honestly.

 _Oh. First name basis, eh?  
_ Somehow that infuriates me more than it should.

"Want to join us?" Potter asks, looking at Blaise, entirely avoiding my gaze.

"Sorry, I've got to go turn in my essay to McGonagall in...Five minutes." He says, looking genuinely sorry, then his grin turns wicked, "...but I'm sure Malfoy here wants to fly."

I realize I could kill Zabini.

But Potter looks at me, as if realizing for the first time that I was present.

"Oh...Er"

"Eloquent, Potter." I can't help but jab. And Potter blushes.

 _Oh, so now you're going to ask me to fly with you?_ I think and almost laugh out loud at that ridiculous notion.

"Er. W-Would you like to fly with us...Malfoy?"

I'm utterly gobsmacked and it surely must be showing on my face, because Potter suddenly grins, albeit shyly.

 _Damn those dimples and those honest eyes._

Sure I'm surprised that he asked but much more so because I say yes immediately. I almost add _'I'd love to'_ and cringed thinking of the other's reactions.

"Okay, I-I'm, um, we're—we'll be waiting below the goal posts."

I nod at him, half smirking and half smiling, and Potter blushes a bit before running off. I feel enormously satisfied that even if it's a teeny bit, Potter's somewhat flustered.

By the time I grab my old Nimbus and turn to walk down to the posts, I notice Blaise giving me _that_ intolerable look of smugness, again.

"You're smiling." He states, his uncanny sharpness infuriates me.

"Fuck off." I say and storm away.

"That was the second time today..." Blaise says and the sound of his laughter drifts towards me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer** : **This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary gain is being made off it. Any violation of trademark and copyright infringement is purely co-incidental and unintentional. The rights belong to its respective owner(s) and nothing substantial is being gained from this venture.**

 **Summary** **: Those crucial moments that essentially shaped Draco and Harry's relationship. Told in Drabbles. Each Drabble could be standalone as well!**

 **Warnings** **: Profanity. Lime, maybe some lemon later on, could even get pretty graphic.**

 **Timeline** **: Post-war, eighth year, and basically – "Till death do them part"**

 **Characters** **: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter.**

 **POV** **: mainly Draco, may be Harry, sometimes may also be third person.**

 **A/N** **: I'll be happy to take requests and suggestions about Drarry plot bunnies! And because I cannot yet find a suitable title I'm using this lame one.**

 **Word count: 349**

* * *

 _Same day, later in the evening._

It's been a few hours into the flying routine when Potter asks,

"Are you looking for someone?"

"Nah. It's just that I don't see the Weasel around. I thought you were the centre of his puny universe."

Potter's cheeks stain a delightful red at the jab and I have the sudden urge to topple him to the ground and devour that mouth of his. Immediately my mind dirty mind feeds me with vivid images of Potter's lips around my cock and I shudder violently.

Fuck.

"It—it's just that that Ron's with 'Mione...you know...now that they're...well—together" he says biting down on his lower lip, his face colouring a bit more.

"Oh..." I say, distracted by Potter's lips.

And its a few seconds later when my lust addled brain truly realizes what he implied.

 _Oh_.

"So they are together..." I murmur unconsciously, filing away that bit of information.

Potter shrugs, "It was obvious after third year."

 _Did I imagine it or did Potter just sound a bit dejected?_

My mind jumps to the worse possible conclusion.

"Don't tell me you like Granger"

"What?"

"Do you?"

"What? What?! No! Of course not! Mione's my best friend. She's like a sister. Merlin, Malfoy!"

My relief is only temporary because my mind comes up with the worst scenario.

"W-Weasley, is it?" I ask, utterly horrified.

Potter's eyes widen and I feel like — one conformation and I'll be traumatized for life.

Instead, potter tilts his head, scanning me with exaggerated concern, "Are you quite alright?"

I shouldn't have felt _this_ relieved.

"Why aren't you with the Weasley chick then? It's obvious she likes you."

The frankness in his eyes evaporates in a moment and is replaced by _dejection?_ —he flushes, opening his mouth only to leave the question unanswered.

"I-I have to go to the dorm. Excuse me." He says instead, and hurries off.

I ignore the sudden twinge of loss and collect my perplexed self—partly because I was having a civil conversation with Potter and mostly because there was a strong possibility of something existing between him and the Weasley girl.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer** : **This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary gain is being made off it. Any violation of trademark and copyright infringement is purely co-incidental and unintentional. The rights belong to its respective owner(s) and nothing substantial is being gained from this venture.**

 **Summary** **: Those crucial moments that essentially shaped Draco and Harry's relationship. Told in Drabbles. Each Drabble could be standalone as well!**

 **Warnings** **: Profanity. Lime, maybe some lemon later on, could even get pretty graphic.**

 **Timeline** **: Post-war, eighth year, and basically – "Till death do them part"**

 **Characters** **: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter.**

 **POV** **: mainly Draco, may be Harry, sometimes may also be third person.**

 **A/N** **: I'll be happy to take requests and suggestions about Drarry plot bunnies! And because I cannot yet find a suitable title I'm using this lame one.**

 **Word count: 468**

* * *

 **Halloween, afternoon.**

* * *

The excessive stress of the coursework which included the N.E.W.T syllabi as well as some advanced Potions work that Draco had signed up for was taking its toll on him. He didn't remember the last time he had gone outside the castle and smelt the autumn air. Bags were developing under his eyes from lack of adequate sleep and he had grown thin and pale. Draco felt that his limbs were perpetually aching because of one hex or the other.  
His thoughts digressing from the Potions research paper he was busy poring over till now, he stood up and walked to the nearest window of the library. Draco could tell from the sun's position that it was already very late in the afternoon. He checked his watch.

16:00

He sighed when his stomach rumbled loudly in protest. He had to eat sooner or later. Draco had been avoiding the Dining hall like the sound of a mandrake. Halloween was the worst of times to become the butt of pranks and tricks, and Draco knew how almost everyone had it against him. The thought of everyone huddled in the warmth of the brightly lit Dining hall made him a little sad. Although he had always maintained the image of a lonely wolf, Draco, was innately human. He craved company. He too wanted to laugh and play pranks on friends. _Friends_ , of which, he realized he had none.

A loud collective cheer roused him from his thoughts and he noticed that this particular window overlooked the Quidditch field. The cause of the cheer happened to be Harry Potter.

Draco rolled his eyes.

 _Could this get any more clichéd?_

In spite of himself Draco's eyes followed a very shirtless Harry Potter who was on his sixth Wronski Feint in a row. The warm glow of sunlight framed his tanned body and seemed to make him glow. He looked other worldly.

 _Impressive_

Draco thought, admiring not just Potter's flying skills.

His eyes followed him to the ground where, on landing, he was jumped by a crowd of hysteric girls who were shrieking his name and probably asking him to be their date for the Halloween ball. _Ha-ha_ , _knowing Potter, he probably already has a date_. A sudden bout of bitter jealousy worked up Draco's throat like bile and he had the urge to vomit. He envied the love Potter had, he envied Potter's happiness, but most of all, he envied the people whom Potter so graciously smiled at.

The thought only made him sadder as he realized he'd have to pass up on going to the ball, not only because he lacked a date, but because he wasn't sure if he'd be welcomed. With that thought firmly set in his mind, Draco picked up his book and walked back to his dormitory.

* * *

 **I'm sooooo sorry I'm late in posting this. But I really didn't have even a bit of time. Plus I have fractured my fucking wrist -_- But I'm so glad to be back. I've another update lined up within hours ;) (hint hint *first lime*)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer** : **This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary gain is being made off it. Any violation of trademark and copyright infringement is purely co-incidental and unintentional. The rights belong to its respective owner(s) and nothing substantial is being gained from this venture.**

 **Summary** **: Those crucial moments that essentially shaped Draco and Harry's relationship. Told in Drabbles. Each Drabble could be standalone as well!**

 **Warnings** **: Profanity. Lime, maybe some lemon later on, could even get pretty graphic.**

 **Timeline** **: Post-war, eighth year, and basically – "Till death do them part"**

 **Characters** **: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter.**

 **POV** **: mainly Draco, may be Harry, sometimes may also be third person.**

 **A/N** **: I'll be happy to take requests and suggestions about Drarry plot bunnies! And because I cannot yet find a suitable title I'm using this lame one.**

 **Word count: 818**

* * *

 **Halloween Ball**

* * *

"Oi, mate, aren't you going to dress up?"

Zabini piped, poking his head through Draco's door.

Draco, meanwhile was preparing to call it an early night and as tucked under his quilt with a Potions research paper and a bottle of mead that he had sneaked in from Hogsmeade.

"Uh, no?"

"Malfoy, what the fuck? Give yourself a break. You've been holed up studying since the very first day. You need to cool off, meet some girls—oh—my bad, check out Potter all dressed up like a dandy" he winked.

Draco was utterly baffled as to why he blushed at that very moment.

"Ah—I—No thanks, I'll pass"

But Zabini was nothing if not stubborn. So after a good hour of fierce passive-aggression and a promise of heirloom ale later, Draco had reluctantly consented to go. Zabini pounced on his indecisiveness and pulled him out of bed, helping him dress up in a black silk shirt and a sharp gray suit that brought out the silver in his eyes.

They hurried out of the dungeons and ran up to the main hall.

Draco was infinitely grateful when no one paid him any mind, in fact he even attracted some female attention. A second year he did not know was eyeing him rather salaciously and he turned away swiftly and walked towards Zabini who was chatting up the Weasley girl who looked quite stunning, Draco gave her that. And—by Salazar, right behind her, there was Potter and the Weasel laughing over their ginger ale and a flock of girls surrounding them. Draco watched Potter with his mouth agape. He looked too appealing. He filled out his raven black suit perfectly, puberty agreed with Potter and the muscles of his arms were pronounced through his suit. His raven hair was longish and his eyes like emeralds. Draco's eyes shifted to Potters bee-stung mouth that was red from toffee or something and caught him grinning widely.

Draco swallowed unconsciously. He was about to turn around and head out of the party which by now, was in full swing. When:

"Oi! Malfoy!" Zabini shouted across the room to him, "Over here!" he was waving both his arms. Not wanting to embarrass the closest thing he had to a friend, Draco walked over to his side. Nodding stiffly towards Ginny Weasley and not even looking at her company.

"You make quite a dish, Malfoy" Ginny remarked, arching a red eyebrow. Malfoy was stunned. He was at the point of gawking but years and years of refined breeding had made him master of the art of schooling his features into a look of nonchalance. He wanted to come back with a snide remark like he would have before the war but he found himself appreciating her effort to make him feel at ease.

"You look quite well yourself, Weasley"

"Why thank you, Malfoy, I didn't know you had it in you to compliment others"

"Oh Draco's a real softie inside." Zabini sniggered.

"Is he?" Potter remarked innocently and out of nowhere, while Ginny and Blaise joined in the laughter. Draco Avada-kedavra'd Zabini over and over in his mind and forced to himself to smile, spotting Granger who smiled back at him and led the Weasel away to the dance floor.

* * *

Draco breathed a deep sigh of relief when the chilly autumn night breeze blew gently ruffled his hair and cooled his cheeks. He felt unnecessarily aroused and the cold of the breeze was welcome against his rise in body heat. And anyway, it wasn't like he wanted to encroach upon the Gryffindors' fun. He stuck out like a sore thumb among those cheerful folk.

* * *

Draco was so lost in thought, leaning against the cold balustrade of the astronomy tower that he hardly noticed someone stepping beside him.

It was only when Harry cleared his throat that Draco started.

"Potter" he acknowledged, schooling his astonishment into an expressionless mask.

"Erm. Hi Malfoy…"

"Hm"

Draco continued looking outside at the night's scenery. Besides it was too dark to make out anything except Potter's glasses that occasionally caught the dim moonlight and his form like a shadow with only his hands somewhat visible on the stone balustrade, contrasting with Draco's pale ones.

"Uh…" Potter started again.

"Why are you here, Potter?" Draco cut him, he didn't understand why he was suddenly so annoyed.

"I just needed to get away…"

"This is not where you usually "get away" to"

"I—I wanted to talk to you"

When Draco did not reply Potter continued, "I wanted to apologize about Ron's behaviour that day, and sorry about your leg, does it still hurt?"

"It wasn't your fault Potter. And that injury happened two months ago." Draco curtly replied.

"Oh yes-er, sorry."

"Potter" Draco sighed, exasperated, "Stop apologizing"

"Please" he added as an afterthought.

"Right. I'll leave you alone, Malfoy" Potter half-whispered and turned around.

Overcome with guilt Malfoy darted out his hand and grabbed Harry's wrist.

"Wait. Don't leave"

"What?"

Potter sounded surprised.

Draco withdrew his hand like it had been burnt and thanked the higher powers a million times that it was dark and that way Potter wouldn't catch him blush.

"Er—what I mean was, you may stay, you don't have to leave, of course if you want to leave then that's fine." He cursed himself for babbling and felt Potter move back to the spot beside him.

The two boys stood like that for a long time before Professor McGonagall voice directing students to bed, amplified by the sonorous charm rang down the halls.

"Good night then, Potter"

Harry's face was now visible in the moonlight and just before Draco turned the corner to reach for the stairs, he heard Harry's voice call out to him.

"Did you blush, Malfoy?"

* * *

 **Okay okay so the lemon is coming. relax...wait for it. this is my first slash smut. so I'm taking my time. RnR please!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: This is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary gain is being made off it. Any violation of trademark and copyright infringement is purely co-incidental and unintentional. The rights belong to its respective owner(s) and nothing substantial is being gained from this venture.**

 **Summary: Those crucial moments that essentially shaped Draco and Harry's relationship. Told in Drabbles of varying lengths. Each Drabble could be standalone as well!**

 **Warnings: Profanity. Lime, maybe some lemon later on, could even get pretty graphic.**

 **Timeline: Post-war, eighth year, and basically – "Till death do them part"**

 **Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter.**

 **POV: mainly Draco, may be Harry, sometimes may also be third person.**

 **A/N: I've been meaning to post this for more than four months now! I know it's too late for last year's Christmas post! But who doesn't like a bit of Christmas cheer? eh? Happy Christmas in advance!**

* * *

 **Christmas eve**

* * *

The little boy leans in closer with his thickly gloved hands curved around his eyes. Nose pressed against the window pane, he peers into Honeydukes. His breath repeatedly condenses into a haze while a pair of eager, deep gray eyes quickly scan the contents of the shop from outside. His gaze has a hint of calculation but the glint of internal debate is replaced with the pure delight of a ten-year-old at the sight of an assortment of luxury Christmas themed chocolate frogs.

"Father!"

The little boy almost yells, barely masking his enthusiasm with years of etiquette training. When his father does not respond he turns around to see him gone.

"Father!" the little boy screams anxiously. A few passersby stop to whisper, hesitating whether or not to help the little gray eyed boy with silver hair.

"Father! Father!" he screams, terrified. The small gloved hands are now curved around his mouth.

"Master!" his house elf in a tattered pillowcase appears with a crack and before the little boy can sigh with relief he is ushered away to the quieter side of Diagon Alley.

This side of the market is a little shabby, he notices. Dimly lit and the slithering darkness seems to have a life of its own. He doesn't like the feeling he has about this place. It doesn't feel like Christmas here. He is ushered into a dingy shop where his daddy is talking to a weird man.

"Father!" the boy calls, relief washing over him at the sight of the older man with the same eyes and hair.

His daddy doesn't acknowledge him immediately but shoots a withering look towards the house elf for the interruption.

When the elf takes him away outside, he peers around the turn to look at the happier street filled with cheerful children going in and out of the sweet shop and twinkling lights and colours. He wonders what Christmas eve is like for them.

* * *

Draco's pale hands are splayed on the frosty window of Honeydukes while he takes a long moment looking into the brightly lit shop.

Seems like the entire population of Hogwarts is here.

He shifts and feels the galleons clink in his pocket. Draco smiles in spite of himself, the Christmas chair is infectious in a bittersweet way, although for him its more bitter than sweet. He sighs softly before slipping his cold hands in the warm pockets of his winter cloak and walking over to the Hog's Head.

* * *

Christmas wasn't the same anymore for Harry Potter. Every time he tried to think back to his best Christmas in Hogwarts, when he had received his father's invisibility cloak, Harry's mind flooded with images from the past year. He froze when he remembered how he and Hermione had nearly been killed by Nagini in Godric's Hollow. The ice cold dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach when the snake lunged at them before Hermione apparated both of them to the forest of Dean.

Harry swallowed cautiously, feeling the cold grip over his heart dissipate slowly. He dragged himself from his bed and threw on his cloak before leaving to get a drink.

* * *

The stuffy warmth of Hog's Head engulfs me as soon as I walk into the pub. Hog's Head is as sparsely occupied as always.

Perfect.

This is one place where I can always count on for drinks and no questions asked. I always take care to tip the bartender generously.

I sit at my usual spot by the window toying with the tumbler I watch the scores of delighted students shout and giggle, all of them so fucking cheerful like they've OD'd on the Euphoria Elixir. I take an angry gulp. My insides feel the burn of the strong firewhiskey. I'm having it clean tonight. It helps with this sudden wretched feeling of loneliness.

* * *

When Harry arrives before Ron or Hermione in the pub, the first thing he notices is Draco Malfoy.

Harry couldn't understand if it was the excess butterbeer or the ale that the boys sampled in the dormitory earlier, but he found himself walking towards the silver haired boy who looked so lonely and small.

 _Had he grown thinner?_  
 _Come to think of it, Malfoy wasn't coming to his meals at all._

Harry reached Draco's table and reached out to tap him on the shoulder exactly at the moment when Draco, in a flurry of woolen cloak and musky cologne stood up and turned around, proceeding to knock Harry's nose bloody with his head. Harry grunted and immediately sat down on his hunches, pressing his nose with both hands.

"Fuck-"

"Potter!"

On receiving no response except a series of grunts and a lot of unsavoury stares, Draco grabbed Harry's shoulders, lifted him up and walked him out into the snow.

* * *

"Shit, Potter, why would you sneak up on me like that?"

I pried open his hands to see that his nose was turned at a ghastly angle beneath all the red smattering of dried blood.

"I-I was just..." Potter began, his voice incredibly nasal and suddenly I found it incredibly endearing. "Sorry" he muttered under his breath before waving his wand and watching Potter wince as his nose snapped back into place.

"What was that?" he asked, his eyes were watery and the colour of his ears matched his nose.

"You should clean that up" I replied, ignoring Potter's question. No thank you, I wasn't going to repeat my apology.

"Er-yeah, thanks..."

"Whatever, Potter"

* * *

Harry stood there for a few seconds, processing whatever just happened and watching Malfoy turn around, a hint of smile on his face, and walking towards school. His skin burning from wherever Malfoy had touched him and the sound of his gently uttered healing spell ringing in his ears.

"Harry!" Hermione called, out of breath and Ron at her heels, both looking patronizingly concerned.  
"We saw you with Malfoy, is anything the matter-Holy cricket! you've got blood all over your mouth, did he-"

"No No, it was an accident, it was my fault actually..." Harry replied absentmindedly, still following Malfoy's retreating silhouette with his eyes. He felt a deep sense of loss, as if, there had been a moment where he was supposed to have done something. Besides, he didn't even thank Malfoy properly...

"Mate, are you alright?" Ron asked, and Harry managed a nod.

He barely registered Hermione drawing her wand out to clean his face when something came over him, like a surge of urgency and he mumbled for his best friends to not wait up as he ran towards Malfoy.

Harry could hear Hermione's confused calling but he only spared them a short glance shouting back "Don't wait up"

* * *

I hadn't turned the corner to the road that led up-to Hogwarts when Potter ran up beside me, breathing heavily. To say I was surprised would be a gross understatement. I noticed that his face was flushed and he still had blood on his face.

"I-I wanted to thank you" Potter finally breathed. "Properly" he said before pulling out a strange but very appetizing bar of what looked like chocolate.

"I'm sorry this is all I have left, Ron must've taken the frogs. If you don't want this I could get you something from Honeydukes, I know this might look suspicious..."

What happened next was probably because of the alcohol. I drew my wand, "Potter, you have to get this cleaned" and touched it to the tip of his nose. He blushed so hard I swear I could've seen steam coming out of his ears if it had been light.

I smiled, I couldn't hold it in. This was the first time in a long, long time that I felt as though a fellow-peer genuinely cared about what I thought. Much to my embarrassment, I felt rather sentimental. Before the corner of my eyes started to tear, I'd have to get out of Potter's sight. Happy or not, Potter and I weren't exactly friends.

"thank you" I managed to whisper. I pretended to not notice the outbreak of goosebumps on my skin as my hand brushed Potter's.

I turned to leave once again but Potter stopped, his warm hand easily enclosed the wrist of my currently underfed body.

"Friends?"

My heart fluttered and I had to draw upon the entire strength of my etiquette in order to manage the polite affirmation while not combusting in a pool of undignified mush.

"Friends"


	10. Chapter 10

_Summary: Draco fucking hates Christmas. Until this one. Potter can only blush around Malfoy._

* * *

 _Fucking Christmas_

I hate everything about Christmas the silly gifts, the incessant talk about exploiting one unsuspecting individual's loneliness in order to get laid, the students huddled together around the gaudily decorated trees. The fucking sappiness thick in the air, _it's hard for me to breathe._

Apart from the general euphoria that grates on my nerves are the associations they have for me, Christmas means tedious dinner parties at the manor, the backstabbing gossip and conspiracies hatched, rich food which never suited me too well and the obnoxiously cheerful band that would play kitschy tunes.

Well,

At least that was what used to be until last year. The war left us virtually penniless by dwindling our means, cutting off our sources of income and forcing us to fall back on the family gold in the vaults. Which really meant that as much as they might want to, Lucius or Narcissa couldn't afford to throw any kind of parties, and with the kind of blow that the family name suffered, no one would want to be seen as associating with us at one of our's anyway. Believe it or not, I was actually glad to have an excuse to stay back at the school and away from my parents this time. With everything that had happened, I really needed to gather myself properly. And I needed to do it on my own terms.

* * *

I stopped pacing around my unmade bed, extricating myself from the dump of my "Christmas cheer" and briefly wondered if I should go upstairs to take a look at the decoration in the Great Hall anyway, Zabini did say that McGonagall went quite overboard with the treats after the debacle of the past year, and maybe, I could nick some of those goodies for another nice, quiet night in with my reading.

 _Hermione and Ron are really happy, aren't they?_

Harry thinks to himself, clutching the latest copy of _Seeker_ _Weekly_ and watching a red-faced Hermione chase Ron around the Gryffindor table after having opened one of the trick presents that Ron had sent for from the Weasley's joke shop.

In one corner he notices Ginny and Dean eating their faces off. He really wants to feel bad about Ginny, he thinks, he should at least try and be a little dejected about it. After all, everyone else definitely thought, in no uncertain terms, that their breakup was the loss of the century, but he can't bring himself to, and Harry's stomach quivers when his mind immediately jumps to an image of grey eyes and pale face.

 _Dammit._

He shakes away his thoughts and focusses on his friends, beginning to laugh when Hermione, unused to the strain, stops to catch her breath and promptly aims a wordless charm and sends Ron flying, hanging upside down by his right leg in the thin air. Hermione, unsteady with laughter and joined by Luna approach Harry's seat while a floating Ron pleads Harry to let him down or at least hand him his wand, promising a treat on their next visit to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

Harry pointedly ignores Ron, heeding Hermione's silent warning from across the table, while the two girls take a seat and dig into the plate of miniature cauldron cakes that appear before them.

Harry only begins to get back to the very interesting spread on Viktor Krum's shocking early retirement when he notices the unmistakable head of white-blond standing taller and in contrast to everyone else's brown, black and golden. He doesn't quite understand or want to admit _why_ his heart begins to thunder. He looks around quickly before returning his gaze to Draco Malfoy who was now walking towards the largest tree at the end of the hall behind the teacher's table.

Harry spared another glance around before leaving the table to approach the same tree, it was in part, and his infamous curiosity and part desperate need to _know_ what to make of Malfoy's recently surprising way of treating him and the knot that formed in his chest every time Draco was within visible range.

 _Oh, pull yourself together!_

* * *

"You better take care to not let your beloved _fans_ see you hanging around me so much." Draco said, before turning to face Harry who was still a few paces behind him, "or they might begin to wonder where your loyalties lie."

Harry was sure Draco was laughing at his expense, but something in his voice, something in the way he said those words and the intensity of his direct grey stare as soon as he turned, set Harry's already nervous heart aflutter and he barely managed a nervous "Hi", while blushing furiously and beginning to run his hand in his hair awkwardly.

Draco was ready to add another remark at the Gryffindor's expense but the way Harry reacted surprised him, and he felt a little bit of heat in behind his eyes as well. Clearing his throat as a way of clearing the sudden thickness of air between them, he continued "Well, Potter, how may I be of assistance? Assuming, of course, that it was because of me that you graced this part of the hall with your presence at all"

Trying very hard not to blush and regaining his confidence after the initial shock of encounter, Harry counters "I could ask you the same question, Malfoy"

"One, I'm not here because of _you_. Two. I distinctly recall _you_ staring at _me_ not many moments ago"

"You wouldn't know I was staring at you, Not that I was, I wasn't, just to be clear but you wouldn't know I was-if I was in the first place if you hadn't stared back, no?"

"As usual, Potter, your logic is astounding" Draco deadpans, but Harry doesn't miss the mirth in his eyes and the way his lips were forming a half smirk.

"Um, Malfoy?"

Harry looks at Draco, searching his face for the courage. _It's only a drink. We're friends now, friends can definitely go for a drink._ But the knot tightens and Harry just stands there, looking at him, at his amused frown and an errant strand of hair falling across one eye, he looks at his eyes, so much darker in the candlelit hall, and Harry wonders if it was fair at all, to deny himself of that one extra move of indulgence that, although capable of a political apocalypse...might just be what he really wanted?

"Um...I"

"Do you want to have a drink?"

The question snaps Harry out of his daydream and throws him off

"What?"

"Is that what you want to ask me?"

"What?"

"This is getting a little repetitive, Potter."

"Didyoujustaskmeout? _He blurts,_ _great!_ _juuuust_ _great! blabber like an idiot, perfect!_

"Since you seem like you might have a cardiac arrest before managing to do so, I thought I might appeal to my considerable altruism and help you on with it."

"Altruism..." Harry manages, still staring disbelievingly at Draco, who was now beginning to blush himself. "Indeed," he adds unexpectedly, not being able to stop grinning. Wonders! Wonders! Malfoy grins back at him, a full grin, his eyes crinkling and the tension dissipating, Harry feels, no, he _knows_ , that this is the right moment to really say something, at least let Draco on into an inkling of what this might mean for both of them, _arch enemies and all_ , he thinks rolling his eyes internally, and he had finally found his tongue. Draco was looking at him with a peculiar intensity, with a kind of vulnerability that he only once saw before, under regrettable circumstances. Only this time, Harry is sure that he would do everything to protect this precious moment of complete, unspoken trust.

And for the very first time, in as long as he can remember, Harry feels like he's beginning to view things with greater clarity. Just that infinitesimal moment held so much promise for him, he prayed to whatever higher powers there were, that it meant something similar, in some degree, to this person standing opposite to him.

"Well?" Malfoy says, now properly blushing and rather impatient.

Harry is about to say something in return when he feels someone tug his arm by his wrist from behind and is turned around by the surprise of the pull. Faltering a little, he turns to see Ron facing him, a twig of pine lodged in his hair, Harry is about to mention it when Ron pulls him a little distance away and begins abruptly:

"Honestly Harry," Ron said, making no effort to lower his voice or cast a _Silencio_ , showing surprising reserve and completely ignoring Draco completely, "I don't understand _why_ you feel the need to associate with the likes of _them_ at all."

"Ron-"

"Have you really forgotten what he did to Dumbledore? What _his_ family, did to Snape? What Lucius did to Gin'? Have you, Harry!?"

"Ron, that's not fair, and you know it's-"

"More complicated than that? Yeah. Right. You need to sort your priorities out, mate." With that, Ron began heading down the hall, "Mione', Loony and I will be at the Three Broomstick's if you need us" he adds a little too condescendingly for Harry's liking.

"I'm really sorry...Draco" Harry says, turning back to Draco gingerly, deeply unsettled, "D-D'you still want that drink? My treat."

But when he dares look Draco in the eyes again, there is already a distance and the smile is gone.

 _I'm not a fucking charity case, Potter. Of course, it was going to be a fucking waste of time. It was so fucking stupid of you to think otherwise. Ha-ha, the joke's on you._ Draco thinks sardonically.

"I'm not eleven anymore, Potter," Draco said, before turning away sharply and disappearing through the back door.

The sudden icy formality in Malfoy's brusque tone shocked Harry than he cared to admit, it actually... _hurt_.


	11. Chapter 11

"Did you know, for a Slytherin, you _really_ are daft" Hermione comments, before _scrougifying_ the dust and folding her cloak to sit down on it.

Draco glances up momentarily and notices Granger's muggle jeans and a hideous purple jumper with a huge 'H' and a 'G' stitched as an afterthought, which clashed horribly with her hair.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion, Granger" Draco retorts drily, with much less venom than he intended, "And... _Cute_ jumper" he adds, unable to stop himself from scoffing with laughter.

"Now, I don't remember asking _your_ opinion either. Besides, it's something of a tradition for me now."

Draco simply rolled his eyes and turned to look at the lake, black with silver streaks in the late twilight.

If Draco was completely honest with himself, he rather admired her, she came from nowhere, a nobody, according to Lucius, but she still managed to hold her own through everything, without becoming Harry Potter's shadow. Although she did tend to be rather bossy and patronizing, she was rather pleasant, and easy on the eyes as well, besides, Potter seemed to trust her with his life. But after the recent incident with Weasley, he really wanted to be left alone and he certainly did not want Granger's pity. So it wasn't without a degree of irritation when he asked,

"What do you want?"

"Look, Malfoy..." Hermione began, neatly folding her legs and crossing her arms, turning to face him, with what seemed like it was going to be a long lecture.

Draco immediately raised a hand and silenced her "Cut to the point, Granger. I don't mean to be rude, but unlike Weasley, I _do_ like to be left alone when I am off on my own."

"Yes, yes, I'm not here to lecture you either, Malfoy" Hermione huffs, "I just want to let you know that I don't know what Harry thinks he's doing, or what he intends to do, but I'm not stupid, I know that he's...he's somewhat...attracted to you...I mean, I really don't know, it's just the way he's been behaving around you ever since the beginning of the term..."

Draco, although unsure of what to expect from her, was definitely _not_ expecting "the talk" to happen, and certainly not with the best friend of his arch-nemesis.

"...do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Completely taken off-guard, Draco begins to blush and Hermione stops abruptly, looking at him, her eyes widening, his blush mirroring hers now with realization dawning in her brown eyes.

"So..."

"Uh, Granger...I"

"Are you in love with Harry?"

"What the fuck?"

They say simultaneously.

"Okay," she says slowly, nodding sagely. "Alright"

"Granger, look, I don't know what you think it is but-"

"Harry's gone towards the library" Granger prompted, "I did think it was odd of him when he said he was going there. "Oh well" She chirped, clapping her hands together, "Now I know."

Then she disappears towards the school building, leaving an utterly baffled Malfoy in her wake.


	12. Chapter 12

"You left your cloak outside, Granger," Draco said tonelessly, dropping the black bundle deliberately on Ron Weasley's head with more force than necessary "oops! sorry about that, Weasel, didn't notice you, not that you stand out in any way other but because of your hideous hair."

And before Ron can even open his mouth, Draco fires a full body bind curse and Ron freezes in his position, his face contorted in anger and turning purple.

"I better go and look up that reference book for the final Potions paper." Draco nods at Hermione, who, despite herself, grins back, undoing his spell.

Draco barely hears the loud sound of Weasley's angry tirade before turning the corner.


End file.
